Rouse, Ye Whigs, to Your Duty.

79

TUNE — "Thou reign'st in this bosom."

Rouse, rouse, ye Whigs, to your duty;
High, high your banner display;
Fling, fling its folds to the breezes;
Place on it the name of our CLAY.
Yes! yes! yes! yes!
Place on it the name of our CLAY.

80

He, he will rescue from traitors,
This, this, our own happy land;
Swear, swear we all here assembled,
By him we ever will stand.
Yes! yes! yes! yes!
By him we ever will stand.

When, when a foe did menace us,
Then, then he stood by our cause,
Brave, brave in the hour of peril,
The friend to our country and laws.
Yes! yes! yes! yes!
The friend of our country and laws.

Free, Free Trade he opposes,
Tell, tell it from east to the west,
Let, let the working man know it,
That CLAY loves our own workmen best.
Yes! yes! yes! yes!
CLAY loves our own workmen best.

List! list! He speaks to the Locos;
Cease! cease with our country to prank;
Down! down with your Sub Treasury;
Establish a National Bank.
Yes! yes! yes! yes!
Clay goes for a National Bank.

States, States are heavy in debt now.
Tax! Tax! the Locos do say;
Give, give the lands that are due them,
And they will be able to pay.
Yes! yes! yes! yes!
And they will be able to pay.

81

Say, say, shall Calhoun rule us?
No! no! the people do say;
Nor, nor Van Buren or Johnson.
None but the patriot CLAY.
No! no! no! no!
None but the patriot CLAY.